


Broken

by Lothiriel84



Category: The Bunker (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-08
Updated: 2017-08-08
Packaged: 2018-12-12 22:06:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11746128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lothiriel84/pseuds/Lothiriel84
Summary: If you want controlWithout any painHow long will you sufferHow long you reign





	Broken

It was one of those nights, he realised as he picked up his gun for the third time; he weighed it in his hand, didn’t need to check to know it was loaded, and ready to fire. He tried to think of something else, anything but the sensory memory of the gun fitting in his palm, the rush of adrenaline right before his finger pulled the trigger.

(They used to have a dog, once. He couldn’t remember its name now, just like he couldn’t recall the look on his wife’s face the first time she’d brought it home, nor the way her eyes lit up when she smiled. It was all gone now, the broken, scattered memories inexorably slipping through his fingers, leaving him emptier than ever before.)

He stood up, willed himself to put the gun back into its hiding place. There was no chance he was going to get any sleep tonight, he might as well get another cup of coffee into himself.

He paused in front of Dave’s room, noticed how the door had been left ajar for some reason. Dave was lying on the bed, looking even more ridiculously young in his sleep than he did in his waking hours. Well, at least someone was getting some rest, he shrugged, and proceeded to shut the door so as to prevent any sudden noise from disturbing his sleep.

The coffee machine wisely refrained from making any attempts at inane small talk, and he quickly vacated the otherwise empty common room. He couldn’t go back to his room, not in his current state of mind; he made a quick assessment and settled for the lesser of two evils, knocked on the doorframe to Tom’s room instead.

(There was a time when he could sleep like a baby, back when he was still a functioning human being, with a job, a wife, and a dog that insisted on hogging the sofa. He tried to remember what sleep felt like, very nearly burst into a fit of hysterical laughter.)

“Oh, hi David. Is – is everything all right?”

Tom looked faintly worried, and more than a little wary of his presence; he’d been listening to music, most likely, given how he was still holding his decrepit iPod, tangled earphones and everything.

“Perfectly fine,” he all but shrugged, loathing himself for his weakness. “I just need to – sit in your room, for a while.”

“Oh. Okay,” Tom nodded, stepping aside in order to let him in. They all needed someone to sit with from time to time, even if it had been nearly a decade since the last time David had been the one asking rather than the other way round.

“Fancy some music from the twentieth century?” Tom asked at length, offering him one of the earphones. He shook his head, reconsidered, and wordlessly accepted it.

There was nothing like four centuries old music to remind you that everything was meaningless, thus making you want to survive out of sheer spite.


End file.
